Lothaire

22

Ellie masked her shock until he’d traced away.

The vampire meant to just use her in the most cursory way imaginable?

Wrong, on so many levels. First, she’d never gone down on a man before. She’d limited her encounters to third base, a soft third—grinding fully clothed to climax. No muss, no fuss, no pregnancy. Ideal for her.

And second, she needed Lothaire to desire her so much that he would choose her above a deity.

There’d be no seducing his body and his mind if she was just a vampire receptacle.

Ellie had suspected he would crave wonder, surprise, excitement. Now it struck her that the surest way to surprise him would be to disobey his orders.

As she hurried to her own shower, she debated her options.

On the one hand, Ellie needed to obey him so as not to risk her family. If she were gambling with only her own life, then this would be a no-brainer.

On the other, if her plan succeeded, she could win the jackpot—her body back from Saroya and maybe a chance to escape Lothaire, preferably with a pocketful of jewels to improve her family’s financial situation.

After a quick shower, she threw on a robe and sat at her dresser. Since he seemed to be partial to her hair, she pinned it up loosely—just to let it down in front of him. Then she used some of Saroya’s makeup. Mascara, lipgloss, a little eyeliner.

But when it came to dressing, Ellie wasn’t so sure. She stared with dismay at the red teddy in her lingerie drawer.

She wasn’t embarrassed to wear it—no remaining modesty and all—but she didn’t want her encounter with Lothaire to go as he seemed to plan it: her in a teddy giving him a mouth hug, then him leaving without a word.

In the end, she donned sexy undergarments, but chose to wear another pair of jeans and a tank top, a red one in compromise. She even pulled on stiletto boots.

When she’d finished dressing, she checked herself out in the mirror. Her jeans and her top were both skintight, her high-heeled boots sexy. But even she could see the outfit needed something. . . .

With a swallow, she yanked off her top, removed her bra, then pulled the top back on. That’ll do it.

She imagined seeing herself from his eyes. What would I look like to a millennia-old vampire? The jeans accentuated the curves of her hips and ass. Her breasts jutted against the thin material of her top. He’d probably want to touch her there.

Just thinking about his hands on her made her nipples hard. Not gonna beat myself up for desiring a bastard like him. She was anticipating this because she was emotionally stunted—and sexually desperate—from prison.

The outfit was sexy, but not as much as the gown he’d wanted her in. I’m gambling with chips I can’t afford to lose. She exhaled, about to change—

Lothaire appeared in her room, his hair still damp, clad in another expensive outfit. She briefly wondered why he’d redressed but figured he would want to intimidate her—or leave directly after his blowjob.

Showtime, Ellie.

He looked lustful, his body tense. “I gave you an order.” He traced to stand just before her, gripping her elbow. “You defy me, when I’m already on the verge of rage? I could kill you so easily.”

“But you won’t.”

“I might. Though I won’t intend to. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m quite mad.”

In a deadpan tone, she said, “I think you’re just misunderstood.”

Double take from the vampire.

“Besides, Lothaire, could your chess game recover from a move like that? You’re not so far gone that you’d risk losing everything.”

He cast her an appraising glance; she made a mental note—learn how to play chess.

“You understood what would happen if you disobeyed me.”

She forced herself to give him her brightest smile, as if she were delighted with him. “Oh, I didn’t reckon you really wanted me to wear that.”

He raised his brows. Didn’t I?

Drawing on every ounce of courage she possessed, she said, “Definitely not the first time we’re to be . . . intimate.”

“And why not?”

“You’d want me to feel comfortable. I’m more comfortable in jeans.”

His grip tightened. “Do you truly believe I give a fuck about your comfort?”

Courage, Ellie! “I told you I would please you, didn’t I?”

Dropping her arm, he strode through the connecting doorway to that settee in his room, with no doubt she’d follow. He reclined against the back of it, his long legs stretched in front of him.

He clasped his hands behind his head, saying in a snide tone, “I’m ready to be pleased. And, of course, to be seduced away from Saroya’s clutches.” He sounded like he was just stifling cruel laughter. “Proceed.”

“You think you know my plan—and you don’t believe I have a shot in hell.”

“None whatsoever.”

“But you’re still going to let me try?”

“I welcome your most inspired endeavor. Though I hardly think it’s fair—since you wouldn’t have been able to practice your seduction skills in prison. Or perhaps you had been able. Who knows what goes on behind bars?”

His expression was so mocking, stinging her deeply, like a wound. “This is funny to you?”

“Uproarious.”

“And what will Saroya think about what we do?”

“I’ll be sure to recount all your clumsy attempts to supplant her—so she and I can laugh about them together.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes. Yes, his mocking stung, but he hadn’t cowed her; he’d just waved a red flag in front of a bull. He’s never had a country

girl.

An earthy, dirty-mouthed girl—whose very life was on the line.

She could throw him for a loop. She recalled overhearing boys talking about her in high school: “You ever been parking with Ellie Peirce? It’s life-changing.” She decided then that she knew just enough about males to be dangerous. He’d underestimated her at his peril.

Reminded that everyone had always underestimated her, she put her shoulders back and strode over to join him, noticing his gaze was locked on her braless breasts. His bulging erection almost made her falter, but when she reached him, she straddled his lap, resting above him on her knees.

“I want to call the shots tonight, Lothaire.”

“You?”

“Yeah, I’ll do all the work. You just sit back and relax after your busy day doing evil. Will you keep your hands to yourself?”

“Unlikely.”

“You said you might hurt me if you touched me.”

“Which is why I demanded head, Elizabeth.”

“Surely you’re not scared of the mortal virgin driving the truck? Of course, I do have some experience that you might like.”

He pinched her chin again. “Ah, I’m to enjoy your parking skills.”

She flung her head back out of his grip, but still smiled at him. “When the only tool you own is a hammer . . .”

“Every problem begins to resemble a nail.”

Of course he would be familiar with her favorite saying.

He absently licked a fang. “I can’t wait to see exactly how you’ll . . . drive.”

Then I’m gonna give you a ride you’ll never forget.